(This entry is a bit formal, because I initially wrote this for my Ice Breaker speech in Toastmasters Club.)
Resist, binge, purge. This was all in a day's work for me--and I did it at least four times a day, seven at most, when I was a bulimic. I never saw how ugly the sickness was, nor how grave my eating habits were for my body. All I knew was that I wanted to be skinny, and I was willing to do anything to be it.
I was a chubby, healthy, and happy teen in in high school. I had a lot going for me. I did well in school and I've had the privilege to serve my classmates in being part of our student council. I had great friends, my family supported every road I wished to embark on and I was discovering my passion for writing and music.
But as I entered my third year in as an adolescent, my insecurities forced its way in, shouting all my flaws and how all my achievements were worthless, and that the proverbial beauty that is skin deep was just a tremendous lie. Eventually I crumbled, and the accusations in my head convinced me that I needed to do something to plummet my weight. At first I tried fasting for a couple of days but it didn’t work. It only left me feeling like a famished coyote, ready to pounce on anything edible to fill its hungry stomach. Since apparently I was incapable to emaciate myself through starvation, I finally binged. After three days of water intake, I gobbled up all the food I could find in our cupboard. But on the last bite, everything started to sink in. I was inundated with guilt. I scolded myself for being so pathetic for giving in to my desire of eating. I was very hard on myself for that moment until rationalizing gave birth to what seemed to be a fantastically redeeming idea at that time.
I loved eating. At the same time I wanted to mold myself to become a modelesque teenager. So after wolfing down the entire kitchen cupboard, I rushed to the toilet and stuck a finger down my throat. I did the the same thing after lunch the next day, and after having dinner too… And this was where it all began.
I knew at that time that what I was doing was bad, and though reason told me that what I’ve gotten myself into would definitely endanger my health, the willpower I had to lose weight instantaneously disregarded my thinking and my conscience. And so I continued. The more I compelled my body to throw up, the more hungry I would get. The more hungry I would get, the more food I'd take in. The more food I'd take in, the more food I would barf out. After a couple of weeks this became a habit (we all know the rule of 21 days), and the habit lead to a very vicious cycle. Bulimia became my god whom all my dreams and hopes depended on. In two month's time, I shed 30 pounds off my original weight. I started getting attention, and it definitely stoked my ego. I relished compliments. It assured me that I was on my way to accomplishing the goals I have set for myself and I was proven right. One random day at the mall, a scout of a modeling agency walked up to my sister and I and invited us to a VTR. We agreed, and right after the go-see we were scheduled for shooting a TV commercial of a local biscuit ad.
Of course, I was enthralled, I finally get to be a model! But despite my skinny appearance, the agency told me I still needed to lose a few pounds more. I told myself that they were right, and focused on the rewards I would soon gain if I did. But during this point in my life, despite achieving my dream, I was very disconnected from everything and everyone. I didn't know who I was anymore. I'd find myself contemplating if this was even worth doing. But I pressed on with the cycle.
On the sixth month of being a bulimic I lost 10 more pounds and gained more opportunities of modeling. It was also on the fifth month when my hair started falling off, my teeth started discoloring, my nails began blackening, and my monthly period stopped coming. I went to Google and typed the symptoms that my body was showing. The results didn't surprise me, and it ratified that indeed, I was a bulimic and my body was signaling me to stop ASAP. Though I knew I couldn't do it on my own, I dismissed thoughts of getting help. It never occurred to me that I would be caught, until one day, it happened. My sister saw me vomiting in the comfort room of a clubhouse after a big family lunch. She told my mom during dinner that day and my mom immediately brought me to the hospital. She was crying on the phone while breaking the news to my family, and hearing her pain-filled sobs brought such overwhelming shame, guilt, and misery to me all at the same time, making me realize that the pain I’ve caused my entire family in exchange for the "perfect body" was just not worth it.
I did everything I could to recover, though it was hell for me. I had to stay in the hospital for one week, while being under observation every single minute of the day. I wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom alone. It sometimes got on my nerves but I had to pay for the consequences of my actions. I regressed thrice until I eventually understood the word ACCEPTANCE. I had to accept my body. I just had to. There was no point in forcing my body to become something that it just wasn't made to be. I realized that beauty truly is from the inside, and feeling good about your body is the key to looking beautiful. I know a lot of girls girls whom I considered gorgeous, but their insecurities and the way they carried themselves blocked their radiance to permeate. Also, I have come to terms with my body by simply being grateful that I have one, and a whole and healthy one at that. During that moment in my life, for six months, I had been magnifying my flaws, when in fact, the positives exceeded all the negatives. Now I can say that I am and will be happy no matter what number the weighing scale shows me. I know I’m beautiful because I feel beautiful. This messy part of my life taught me to stop being superficial and appreciate all kinds of beauty, in whatever color, shape, gender, and size they are in. I've also come to believe that character determines a person’s attractiveness. Every body is beautiful. This for me, is a fact. So before I end, I’d like to impose a challenge: Celebrate your bodies! Dance in front a mirror naked and hug yourself. ;) Appreciate your body in every way you can, and embrace every bit of chunky flesh you have. :)
Because I idolize Crystal Renn, I am hoping to be be a plus-sized model here in the Philippines. And because I finally accept and love my body. :) *Sorry for the quality of the photos, we only used a camera phone. :\ I already edited them to make them as clear as possible though. :)
Zaftig Lovin',
Stacy